


Skating at Ungodly Hours

by TheAlternativeRuler



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, lowkey angst but for like two seconds of self-hate, mostly fluff and me trying to figure out how to write them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlternativeRuler/pseuds/TheAlternativeRuler
Summary: It starts as a whisper in the back of his mind.It’s barely a breath of sound, fingers hovering over keys, bows feather-light against strings, lungs full with lips surrounding mouthpieces, all poised at the ready just waiting for the conductor to drop their hand and let the musicians loose from the caged waiting of a raised baton.Then the first beat is struck and Yuuri awakes with a start.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this forever ago, I think around the forth or fifth episode, but I finally cleaned it up and remembered to post it. Not necessarily canon-compliant, just a little ficlet for my favorite boys (as I blatantly deny the existence of Ep 11). 
> 
> I'm still figuring out how to write them properly, so more on the way!

It starts as a whisper in the back of his mind.

It’s barely a breath of sound, fingers hovering over keys, bows feather-light against strings, lungs full with lips surrounding mouthpieces, all poised at the ready just _waiting_ for the conductor to drop their hand and let the musicians loose from the caged waiting of a raised baton.

Then the first beat is struck and Yuuri awakes with a start.

The music in his head is steadily crescendoing into a song, filling his ears and his mind and flowing down to his arms and legs, causing them to twitch with impatience and desire.

_God, he has to skate._

Without even glancing at the clock on his nightstand; without even bothering to change out of his pajamas, only grabbing a jacket from over his chair and his glasses from his desk; somehow without even a fleeting thought about Viktor lying there peacefully with Makkachin curled at his feet, Yuuri leaves. He quietly makes his way to the door and the second he's sure it's shut tightly behind him, he sprints.

Yuuri’s breath puffs out in large clouds of white vapor, snowflakes melt away into wet droplets on his flushed skin, his arms and legs don't even feel the cold as he runs like his life depends on it. He can feel the music pushing him forward, limbs pumping to the beat as he tries to get to the Ice Castle Hasetsu as fast as he possibly can. It's a blaring roar in his head, notes shoving themselves into the crevices of Yuuri’s brain, embedding themselves deep within his very _soul_ , causing him to feel a very physical itch to get on the ice and just _move._

He bounds up the stairs, shoving his hands in his pockets and scrambling for the key to the back door that Yuko gave him. He finds it, sighing in relief as he jams it into the lock and turns it, wrenching the door open and becoming enveloped by the cold, dark building.

It feels like home.

Yuuri flicks on three lights: one for the locker room, two on the rink, and that's all he needs. His hands automatically open his combination lock from muscle memory, and pulling on his skates feels like the building tension of the music in his head. It's there, pounding and flowing and building building building into the main melody. 

He stumbles as quickly as he can into the rink, gasping quietly in awe of the beauty of the ice. It's fresh, clean, and gleaming in the light, just _begging_ to be skated on.

Yuuri takes a deep breath and when his blade touches the ice, the melody breaks out, instruments singing out the chords like a living entity, loud and majestic and larger than life. He does a lap around the rink, relishing in the cold feeling clamped around his body and the familiar sound of metal shearing ice.

When the melody jumps, so does Yuuri, performing a triple Toe Loop and flourishing it with a wide sweep of his right leg, sending showers of ice chips into the air. Yuuri can feel his legs protesting the jump immediately. After all, he didn't warm up before hitting the ice, and he’s still harboring some of the softer, looser flesh from last week’s bout of stressed out binge-eating. He frowns, mentally berating himself for his weakness to the pleasures of food. He has a competition in just a week, he can't afford to have any amount of fat hanging off his body.

With a determined huff, Yuuri continues skating around the rink, spinning and twirling in a fluid step sequence. He tells his legs to suck it up, letting any further thoughts become consumed by the music infesting his brain.

~*~*~*~*

Viktor awakes to empty arms and cold sheets beside him. 

He blinks blearily in surprise, still attempting to process what’s missing in his sleep-addled mind. Makkachin shifts at his feet, so it's not him…

_Yuuri._

Viktor sits up in sudden realization, glancing around the room as he becomes more awake. Yuuri is nowhere to be found. Viktor panics momentarily, but then logic comes with consciousness and he reasons that Yuuri most likely went to the restroom or to get a drink of water.

He settles back down in bed, reaching down to rub Makkachin’s head. He spares a glance at Yuuri’s clock. _Good god, it's 4 a.m. already?_

With a heavy sigh, Viktor lays back down, burrowing his face in Yuuri’s pillow and waiting for him to come back so they can resume their nighttime cuddling. He waits, and waits, and waits, but Yuuri still hasn't come trudging into the room and flopping down on the futon beside Viktor.

He looks at the clock again, it's 4:43 now, and no one needs over half an hour to use the bathroom or get a drink. Viktor’s eyes drift to Yuuri’s desk and he notices the lack of glasses on the corner and sports jacket hanging from the back of the chair.

 _Oh. So_ that's _where he ran off to._

The Russian skater sits up with a small groan, throwing the covers off of his body and shuffling over to Yuuri’s closet. Rummaging through it until he finds a thick trench coat, he pulls it on, breathing in Yuuri’s scent and bracing himself for the freezing cold of an early morning winter walk.

Viktor hurries towards the Ice Castle Hasetsu, not wanting to be out here any longer than he has to be. He watches his breaths appear and quickly dissipate in the air, snowflakes hitting his cold skin and cutting through it like tiny daggers. _At least the ocean is pretty_ , he thinks while walking across the icy bridge. It's dark and ominous, stretched out as far as the eye can see, but the sound of the waves crashing is a soothing rhythm.

Viktor tries the back door of the Ice Castle, finding it unlocked. No surprise there, when Yuuri gets like this, he couldn't care less about stopping to lock a door behind himself. Viktor shivers as he steps into the chilly building, almost as cold as the air outside. He sees the light in the locker room still on, giving a faint glow through the little windows on the doors.

He pushes through the double doors, seeing Yuuri’s locker open and his skates predictably missing. With a slight pause for thought, Viktor goes to his own locker beside Yuuri’s and decides to put on his skates as well. He has a feeling they might be here for a little while. Carefully, Viktor trudges to the actual rink area, taking in a sharp breath when he catches sight of Yuuri.

Yuuri is skating like his very life depends on it. He jumps and spins and twirls and moves every part of his body in perfect sync to music that only he can hear. The only audible sounds are his blades against the ice, his heavy pants of exhaustion, and Viktor’s own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Because even at 5 a.m. while sweaty and disheveled and still holding some of the curves he got from his binge-eating spell last week, Yuuri is absolutely breathtaking. _This_ is why Viktor became his coach. Yuuri holds so much passion and love for what he does in every movement, every expression that flits across his face, every technical spin and jump. He needs no music from the speakers surrounding the rink, he _is_ the music; it's in him, it always has been, and he lets it show through his incredible skating.

Yuuri lands a flawless quadruple Salchow and Viktor grins with pride. He's come so far, and even though his body isn't in pristine skating condition, he can still give an amazing performance. Viktor has no doubt that Yuuri will win his next competition, he’s captivating without even trying. Frankly, it's a bit unfair. How is Viktor supposed to resist this perfect little angel when he's _right there_ and he’s scooping out a cavity in Viktor’s chest to settle himself inside?

Viktor quietly steps onto the ice, moving slowly around the edge of the rink, hoping not to be detected. Which shouldn't be hard, Yuuri gets incredibly focused at times like this and almost nothing can break that concentration. Yuuri is coming to the end of his routine and Viktor smirks, pushing off the edge of the rink and making his way towards the tired skater.

~*~*~*~*

Just as Yuuri is about to move out of his final pose, he feels arms wrap around his waist and cold lips hit his neck in a smile.

“That was beautiful, _dorogoy_ ,” is whispered against his skin and he shivers lightly.

“V-Viktor! I didn't know you were here…” Yuuri stammers in surprise, letting his arms drop to his sides but otherwise not moving.

Viktor hums against his skin and kisses his neck, despite all the sweat that's collected there from his long practice session.

Yuuri shivers again, leaning back against Viktor with a tired, shaky sigh. “I’m sorry for leaving so early, I just…really needed to skate.”

Viktor nods in understanding, hugging Yuuri tightly to his chest. “It's okay. I missed you, though.”

Yuuri smiles and turns around in Viktor’s arms so he can hug him as well, arms wrapped around Viktor’s neck. “What, is Makkachin not a good enough cuddler for you?” he teases.

“Of course he is! I've simply gotten used to having my cute dog _and_ my cute Yuuri in bed,” Viktor says with a pout.

Yuuri blushes, still flustered by Viktor’s compliments and flirts after all the time he's had to get used to them. He buries his face in Viktor’s chest, now wanting more than anything to go back to the warm comfort of his futon.

He's about to suggest that they do just that when a loud, disgusting, ravenous growl echoes across the ice.

Viktor pulls back a bit and blinks in surprise, looking Yuuri in the eyes as he asks, “Was that your _stomach?_ "

Yuuri’s blush is spreading blood-red color across his cheeks and ears as he looks away and stammers, “U-um, um…n-nooo…”

Viktor grabs his chin and tilts his head up to look at him again. “Yuuri, when’s the last time you ate?” His eyebrows are drawn together in concern and his grip on Yuuri’s chin is firm but gentle.

“Yesterday! W-well…I guess since it’s early morning now, t-technically speaking, it was…two days ago…?” Yuuri admits, smiling nervously and shrugging in an attempt to relieve some of the tension between them.

Viktor glares and lets go of his chin, only to use the same hand to lightly smack him upside the head. “Katsuki Yuuri! You are an athlete, constantly working your body to its physical limitations day after day, and you have a competition coming up soon! You have to give your body fuel or it’ll stop working properly. Then what am I supposed to do with you, eh?”

Yuuri winces and bows down a bit. “I-I’m sorry, Viktor.”

Viktor sighs and hugs Yuuri close again, running his fingers through his hair. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“I-I…well, I was eating a-a lot last week, way too much f-for my body when I have a competition coming up and…I-I guess I was punishing myself and tr-trying to lose the weight…”

Viktor pauses his movements and once more pulls back to look Yuuri in the eyes. He grips his shoulders, leaning down slightly to be perfectly level with Yuuri’s face. He gulps.

“Please don't do that to yourself again, _dorogoy_. It's not safe for your body, and you shouldn't punish yourself by not eating. In fact, you shouldn't punish yourself at all. As your coach, I’m the one who decides if you deserve to be reprimanded, and you don’t. Your weight barely changed at all because of last week, and to be quite honest, I think you look even more beautiful with the slight curves. So please, don't ever hurt yourself like that, okay?” Viktor reaches out a hand to brush the sweat-dampened bangs out of Yuuri’s face and his breath hitches in response. 

“O-okay,” he agrees easily, leaning up slightly to kiss Viktor. His stomach growls insistently, causing him to blush in embarrassment again.

Viktor laughs this time and wraps his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “Well, shall we go feed that hungry beast?”

“…Yes please,” Yuuri says, leaning into Viktor’s hold as they skate to the edge of the rink.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a headcannon I had that Yuuri always stresses out and binge-eats the week before a competition, then the week of, he'll hardly be able to stomach anything because he's a) trying to get rid of the effects of the previous week and b) too anxious and busy to even think of food most of the time.
> 
> (This is also cross-posted on my YOI sideblog yuuri-the-katsudon and if you wanna scream with me about Viktuuri or just YOI in general that's a good place to go lol)


End file.
